Original subtitles

Arturo...

What's up, man?

You know, I've been thinking.

Hey, hey, hey!

Break it up! Break it up!

Back to work, Ronnie.

I'd like to speak to Warden Swickle, please.

Happened again, Arturo attacked me.

I've filed several complaints.

I don't know why the state keeps sending maximum prisoners

to minimum security facilities

just to ride out their last year.

It's like throwing snakes in a hamster cage.

Feel free to file another complaint.

- I will. - Mail, sir.

All right. Thank you.

Guard!

The entire administration wing is quarantined.

No one enters, no one exits.

Guard!

The wing's sealed; they're not going anywhere.

Help me with the vents in my office.

What do you think's going on out there?

More worried about what's going on out here.

What are you standing there for?

It's in the vents!

Shut the whole east wing down!

Go now!

It's not safe here. Go!

All right, get in your files; we got a weird one today.

Today's the big day. How you feeling?

A bit tense.

Okay, well, just remember, you can't control

what the parole board decides, you know?

You sent in your statement, you're active, you took a stand.

That's what's important.

No matter what happens with Margolis's parole,

you are a stronger person. Okay.

How about we do our jobs today?

Meet and Ronnie Marcum,

an up-and-coming self-help guru,

in for violating various provisions of federal label laws.

It's a fancy way of saying

he paid illegals three bucks an hour

to package and ship his books and CDs.

Five months into a ten-month sentence,

he booked from Huntsville.

Miscount after causing a little bit of an uproar.

Huntsville? That place makes Maybelle look like Sing Sing.

Why run away from day camp?

Well, that's question number one.

He books with only five months left on a short rib?

That's question number two. I told you this was a weird one.

Using a mail room gig

to send baking soda as an anthrax attack?

That's got to violate like six terrorism laws right there.

This is man who wants to get out now.

That's why we were brought in. Feds don't play around

when it comes to that kind of stuff.

Says here he's gotten beat up a few times inside,

once this morning.

He's missed head count before, too,

'cause he was hiding from the next ass-kicking.

They've found him in the kitchen freezer in the boiler room.

He sounds like a punk.

He actually had a rough upbringing.

Uh, projects. Street kid.

According to his Web site,

"He overcame his obstacles and broke through his own.

"Geometric Negativity,

to allow his success to finally take shape."

Oh, didn't make the connection before.

This is the, uh, "Be Your Own Success Shape" Guy.

You read his stuff?

Um, yeah, may have... glanced at it.

Well, it sounds like donkey dick to me.

But he's got a nice business going;

he clears low six figures a year.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, six figures?

Come on. I'm Harvard-educated,

my I.Q.'s the price of a gallon of high-test--

why aren't I making that kind of money? Because...

you gambled it all away.

"If you fail to strive,

your self-esteem will be trapped in a rectangle"--

that's spelled W-R-E-C-K-tangle--

"And your shame sphere will overflow."

Okay? This is unadulterated hogwash,

hokum, bunk and balderdash.

This guy has brain-dead acolytes

filling his visitation log like a phone book.

Do you know who's in mine?

My mother!

Brother makin' scratch.

This phone-book-sized visitation log,

I can't find one person registered under family.

He's got no living relatives.

He's been on his own since he's 13.

He lives and breathes his work like most entrepreneurs.

I suggest we start here--

the Marcum Institute.

How many people know what I'm talking about?

Escaped?

He's got a few months left and a great career ahead of him-

- why would he jeopardize that?

We were hoping maybe you could shed a little more light

on the man. Sure thing--

how about the fact that he was in prison for employing Haitians

so they could send money back

to their earthquake-ravaged homeland?

He would have loved to do it legally,

but our government wouldn't allow

these people to become citizens.

And now...

when he'll be released soon,

same government's fabricating some story to keep him in.

Charlatan!

Flimflam man! Snake oil salesman!

They should call this place Dunlop,

because it is one mother-humper of a racket!

Okay, I'm sorry to be the bearer of true tidings, folks,

but I have seen more substance in meringue, okay?

You want a shape?

Here is a shape for ya.

A pyramid, as in the scheme.

I think it's time for you and your associates to go.

I still have a few more questions.

And I still have a few constitutional rights.

We're a business

with a good reputation good credit and good lawyers.

So leave now.

I'm gonna get you a muzzle.

Sorry about all that.

Ladies and gentlemen,

help me give my friend, Ken Raymond, a warm...

Driver's side dented rear left panel,

driver's side crushed front wheel well...

You gotta be kidding me.

Hey.

It's good to see you, Ken.

It's great to see you, Ronnie.

What are you doing here?

I've been marking off the calendar boxes;

you're not due for another 146 days.

What'd I always say about boxes, huh?

You put yourself in a box, Ken, you get stuck there.

But a circle...

A circle can roll forever.

Absolutely.

An eternity of opportunity.

True that, Ronnie, true that.

As a model prisoner,

I got an opportunity, Ken.

I got an early release. Yeah.

But unfortunately, my car, which was impounded while I was in,

well, its not released from its prison until tomorrow.

So, I took a bus here.

You came to see me first?

I've always been able to count on you, buddy.

That means a lot, Ronnie, coming from you.

It's true.

As true as it is that I need a lift to a couple places.

All related to my new book:

Shaping Your Presence with Life's Presents.

Man, I like that. It's good, right? Yeah.

I was writing while I was in prison. Uh-huh.

I mailed the pages

to a couple folks on the outside.

Yeah, of course. So, can you help me?

Yeah, I mean, I got an appointment I can't miss.

Oh, no, just a few hours.

Okay, um, sure.

I just gotta finish up this damage report,

and I'm good to go.

Um, you know, I'm a manager now, Ronnie.

I mean, I know insurance work ain't sexy,

but I'm making money, sending some home to my kids.

It's all 'cause of what you taught me.

That's exactly why I do what I do.

Jules, what'd you learn about the Marcum blockheads?

All of Ronnie's employees are clean;

college grads, no priors.

He's got a PhD?

A Personal Healing Degree.

You guys, he's got a Personal Healing Degree.

Please, let me be in a coma, and this is not real,

and I'll wake up... now.

No, no. No, it's still here.

Why'd you have to be like that back in there? What?

It bothers you that much to see black people in suits

instead of robbing and stealing?

Okay, first of all, my friend,

all they're doing is robbing and stealing.

And second of all,

I don't think they have a hire-a-con program,

so I doubt I blew any opportunities for you.

I'm getting sick and tired of your mouth, Lowery.

Those people are selling product.

Your problem with Ronnie

is that he's a black man making an honest living.

Oh, he's honest? He broke out of prison.

Oh, my God, both of you, shut the hell up.

Shea, not everything's about race.

And, Lloyd, if you want to look down your nose at salespeople,

do it in your head, okay?

My problem with them... Oh, my God, are you still talking?

is not that they're selling,

it's that they're selling bullshit to people

who think that they're getting help

when they're actually getting hurt

because they're not getting the help that they actually need.

So once again this is about your little crazy girlfriend, okay?

Okay, if you refer to her like that again,

I will be all over you

like a honey badger out of a burlap sack.

And you'll win the fight, Shea, but I will do some damage.

You hit a dead end, you start from the beginning.

We're heading to Huntsville.

Let's go, tough guys.

What the hell?

Hey, Mo, wait.

You know where I'm supposed to be, right?

But I ain't there.

Shows you how serious I am about this, right?

Where is it? I don't know.

Where is it?

I'm not lying.

Hurts, huh?

Wrong answer.

Where is it?

Please, I'm not lying!

That was, let me see,

that was east and west of the sweet spot.

The next one ain't gonna miss the mark.

Ronnie, brother, it's me, Mo.

I'm telling ya I don't have it.

Give me my's. I don't know,

I don't know where they're keeping it at.

I was just along for the ride. I needed the money!

Please?

You promise?

Okay.

Get yourself together.

Bye, Mo.

And took the wheel of his life

and drove it into a better, brighter future.

Ladies and gentlemen, help me give my...

Uh, did you get your book pages?

Oh, no, he didn't have them.

We have to see somebody else. Is that all right?

Uh, sure. Thanks, buddy.

I ain't J-cat. Why I got to talk to shrinks?

Well, Mr. Arturo, the reason Dr. Dakota Silicon and I

are here is not for you, per se,

but rather for a fugitive we're tracking-- Ronald Marcum.

I get sent to solitary

and that son of a bitch is running free?

Since this morning,

and it's why you were sent to solitary that interests me

and Dr. Smallmember.

See, you're the last convict to have any substantial interaction

with Ronnie before he disappeared.

Like, where he was going.

You can tell us the truth.

We're gonna find out eventually.

Perhaps he told you you couldn't break with him,

which is why you "La cucaracha'd" his lower intestine.

I've done 24 years of hard time

for killing a man with his own dog's femur.

24? Just for that?

So why the hell would I break out

of an Easy-Bake Oven like this place

with only seven months to go?

I beat him down

because of this.

It's beautiful.

She's Cecilia. My angel.

Died 27 years ago.

Sids.

This morning,

Ronnie told me she was better off dead

because she would've wound up on the pole

by the time she was 18.

No one talks bad about my angel.

Can I go back to solitary now?

Of course you can. Thank you.

We're sorry for your loss.

Ronnie deserved to be beaten.

He wanted to be beaten.

I mean, the only reason someone

would cross a line the way Ronnie did

is if he wanted his ass kicked.

But what does his beat-downs have to do with him breaking out?

The prisoners were lined up against the wall here,

including Ronnie, hands on head.

Where was Ronnie? Right about there.

That's the last place I remember seeing him.

He just disappeared.

It's a receipt for a painter's protective suit.

Here's a picture of it. Look familiar?

It's identical to the Hazmat outfits.

You know, he worked mail and requisition.

He must've ordered if for himself

and walked right out of here when things got crazy.

He's smart.

Pulled the wool right over your eyes, Swickle.

Yeah, Jules.

Hey, Ray, we've got a positive on Mo Blakely.

He was found DOA in his apartment earlier.

Right.

Other than getting beat up,

was Ronnie involved in any other violence in here?

Before the escape, he was a model prisoner. Why?

Because a guy who visited Ronnie here,

a guy he ran with as a kid, just turned up dead.

Victim Mo Blakely.

Perp unknown. No prints, no witnesses.

We got the surveillance tape from the building super

but the perp kept his head down and turned.

Couldn't get an I.D. on him.

May I, Officer?

Oh. Okay.

Multiple puncture wounds.

Dull instrument to open up the jugular.

We're dealing with a very angry runner, Ray.

This is a personal killing.

Man, this body's jacked up.

Ronnie was looking for something.

Money? ERICA: His company's thriving

and he's not in a cash-heavy,

easy-to-skim-off-the-top business, I mean...

could be wrong, but I don't think this is a money thing.

So Ronnie, Ronnie wants something.

He thinks Mo has it.

Mo either didn't want to give it up to him,

or he couldn't-- either way,

the multiple stab wounds,

the personal nature of the killing

we could be dealing with a blackmail here, Ray.

You certain or just theorizing?

No, I'm certain that my theory is... I don't know.

Check this out.

Mo worked for Ronnie.

Hey, Jules.

You checked on Mo Blakely, said he had a rap sheet?

Yeah-- illegal weapons, narcotics...

I thought you said that anyone

that worked didn't have a criminal record.

That is because,

according to Mo Blakely's employment benefits,

Ronnie fired him a few days

before he surrendered to authorities.

All I'm saying is Mo should be killing Ronnie for firing him,

not the other way around.

It doesn't make sense.

But nothing about this case makes sense.

We're missing something.

And there's something about and Ronnie's business.

There's a link we're not seeing that pulls this all together.

Well, there's only three places to go

to get information about a business:

the boss-- that's Ronnie,

the employees-- but they'll lawyer up

before we walk through the door

and whoever handles the money.

You gotta talk to his accountant.

He's right. We gotta get a fake.

Ooh!

A fake I.D. to enter a fake institute.

Does anyone want to discuss the irony?

Does anybody want you to shut your face-hole?

No, thank you, Leather Tuscadero,

'cause I'm too busy being really smart,

because it's obvious that Mr. Shea Daniels

is the only person in this room who could pass

as one of Ronnie's employees.

And Shea, no offense,

but I've seen the gentlemen in that office,

and you are not them.

What's your point, man? My point, my dear friend,

is I'm going to have to My Fair Lady your gangster tuchas.

What you calling me?

Hey...

Figured I'd see if you were here.

'Cause I never know when you're around.

Yeah, I... well, I kind of come and go. You free now?

You want to grab a coffee?

Erica! I'm...

There are lockers in the bathroom for a reason!

Keep your prison blues off the floor.

Prison blues.

Um, can I talk to you for a second?

I...

I was gonna eventually tell you...

Okay.

Well, I might as well tell you... I've got a kid, too.

I'm a real prize.

Is the kid a convict also?

Look, I set up nightclubs, okay?

Half the people that I do business with

should probably be in prison, so...

Did you kill somebody?

Five.

No, um...

Mortgage fraud. I made a mistake.

All right.

I'll leave you to it.

Next time you're not cuffed, I want to buy you a coffee.

Deal.

I can see your lady boner.

Looking sharp.

Got your back story.

Okay, so you graduated from Queens College

with a business major.

Listen, I still don't see why I gotta trim my chops.

Because the vibe of your chops screams criminal.

Your vibe screams kid fondler,

but you don't see me messing with your action.

That brings me to part two of our extreme makeover.

We don't want to be dropping

any "Messing with yo' action" Bombs

while we're in there, okay?

So we want a little less Ebonics, more Hooked on Phonics.

Repeat after me: "You betcha."

You betcha.

More nasal: "You betcha."

You betcha. Nasal.

You betcha. You betcha.

Damn it, I said nasal!: You betcha!

By George Washington Carver, I think you got it.

All right. Now let's try this one on for size:

Uh... "No worries."

No worries. No worries.

No worries.

"Now we're cooking with gas."

Dwight... I ain't saying that.

Ooh, how's your laugh. Let me hear your laugh.

Okay, well, we'll work on that one.

All right. Always apologize a lot,

and for no reason at all-- that always helps.

Avoid eye contact.

You gotta ignore your natural instincts--

go beta dog on this one, okay?

When people feel superior, they let their guards down

and more information comes out,

'cause they don't view you as a threat.

Just... just keep practicing, okay?

All right.

Everybody's got a little white guy living deep down inside 'em.

I just need you to reach down

and really just touch that white guy

that's-that's deep inside you.

Is that a double entendre?

You tell me.

Good luck.

You betcha.

You betcha.

Women are like computers.

Their memories only work when it's convenient for them.

So, Mr. Drexler... Yes, sir!

What can I help you with today?

All right, well, first of all, Mr. Funger,

forgive me for dropping by unannounced.

I had a lunch in the area,

and I knew your offices were nearby.

No worries.

I've been tasked to help manage the Mo Blakely situation.

I do the books for over a hundred companies

and 500 individuals--

Rory, you have to be more specific.

My apologies.

Um, Mr. Blakely was an employee

that we fired a few months ago

now threatening a wrongful termination suit.

We don't want any more bad press,

so we need any information surrounding Mr. Blakely's termination.

Let's take a look-see.

Okay...

Salary ceased immediately.

Benefits, too.

No severance.

Seems like a simple firing.

But...

if you expect problems from Mo,

then be ready for lawsuits from the other two.

Um, the other two?

Uh, forgive me,

it's a busy, busy office.

People are always coming and going.

Who are these other two?

Wally fired Mo and two other employees at the same time--

Curtis Ridgeway and Gerald Pike.

Ronnie?

I hate to be a pain, man, but my appointment!

Yeah, back bedroom, Ken!

Stay cool, Kenny.

Oh, shit.

Damn right, shit.

So this is how it's gonna play--

you're gonna take me exactly where I gotta go.

And you're gonna do exactly what I say,

then there'll be no problems.

My beef ain't with you, Kenny.

What the hell's going on, Ronnie? Not for you to know.

God, Ronnie. Don't get all silly.

Now, you're a two-strike ex-con in a house

with a dead body.

You got your fingerprints on the screen door,

your fingerprints on the inside door,

and now your fingerprints are on the bedroom door.

That officially makes you at my mercy.

So you're going to follow what I say.

If you follow me, I promise you, we'll come back here

in a few hours, we'll come right back here,

we'll, we'll clean up the prints,

and you can get home and play with your kids.

How's that sound?

Now, grab me a pillowcase, we got to get moving.

Come here looking for a fugitive,

find his boyhood friend dead.

It's becoming a habit on this case.

Anyway, I'll make sure

the Marshals office sends you my report.

Great, thanks.

Another ransacked house. I'm telling you,

Mo's got something on Ronnie

that Mr. Marcum wants to disappear.

And another body.

He's been out a few hours.

What the hell is this guy's hurry?

Urgency.

Okay, not to keep beating this drum, you guys,

but things are urgent when things are important to someone.

Things are important to someone when they're personal.

I think my blackmail theory just got more certain, Raymond.

NYPD just called.

They're still staking out Curtis' home,

but he hasn't shown yet.

No shit-- streets are talking.

You don't think he's heard

about what's going down already?

Curtis is laying lower than a sidewalk right now.

Anything on the cell number?

Uh, I still haven't found one.

I promise you, he's using a burner

that he's changing up every few months.

Check with the family.

Sister died, leaving a teenage niece to foster care.

Social Services records show that he has weekly visitation

that he never misses, but it's not for a couple of days.

In a few days he won't be able; it'll be too late.

If you have a kid, you have a weakness.

I know it's yours, you know it's mine.

Ronnie and Curtis go back like rocking chairs.

If we know he's close to his niece, so does Ronnie.

Jules, what's the niece's name?

Hey, Naomi.

Yeah?

I-It's, it's me-- Teddy, your Uncle Curtis' friend.

You don't look like one of my uncle's friends.

I-I'm from the building, remember?

You the super or something?

Yeah, I am, a-and, you know, he's got a leak

and I can't find him

and I, I know that sometimes he picks you up,

so... Nah, he doesn't pick me up today.

Oh, God.

Oh, God, Ronnie.

23rd Precinct got a report

of a young girl identified as Naomi

getting dragged into a car

with a pillowcase over her head.

Uh, two classmates saw this from a half-block away.

They couldn't get a read on the perp or the wheelman,

though, because their backs were turned to them.

They did get a read on the license plate.

DMV's running it.

First he's killing, now he's kidnapping?

Guess Ronnie's working with someone now.

No signal on the victim's cell.

Got a hit on the suspect's license plate.

It's registered to a Ken Reily.

I've seen that mug somewhere before.

NYPD is issuing a stake and notify.

In and out of juvie, separate bids for B and E,

aggravated assault.

Squeaky clean the past few years, though.

Jules, we need Curtis's cell phone.

Ronnie's got his niece.

It's a matter of time before he reaches out to Curtis.

It's not like I'm not trying, Ray.

Ronnie's film--

that's where I've seen this guy before-- at the institute

on the endless loop with Ronnie proselytizink.

Shea, you remember the TV on the wall

they were standing next to as we were waiting

for the Kool-Aid Man to bust through and offer

his tasty beverage to all of Ronnie's disciples?

That's the guy who was onstage with Ronnie.

Jules.

Already pulling it up.

Still wearing the suit, huh?

Don't get pissed 'cause I make it look good, brother.

Found it.

I...

I was lost in a half-sphere of fear,

trapped for years in, in a free-floating semicircle

of confusion...

until this man came along.

Related searches show

that Ken has made at least ten other appearances

around New York on Ronnie's behalf.

In addition to helping kill two of Ronnie's boys.

You know, I really hope there aren't any more lemmings

out there willing to lend Ronnie a helping hand

'cause he is officially a desperate man.

Yeah, he breaks out of prison with five months left.

That's a desperate act.

He, he, he kills his two closest friends

within hours after breaking out-- another desperate act.

He just kidnapped an innocent teenager--

desperate act.

If whatever he's planning

doesn't play out the way he wants...

He'll kill that kid.

No, no, no, no, relax.

Nice and easy breaths.

Look, I'm not trying to hurt you, okay?

Okay?

I'm not trying to hurt you.

Then let me go. Shh!

Shh, I can't. Listen, listen, listen,

if I wanted to hurt you, you'd be hurt already.

You would be hurt already, okay?

I'm in this as deep as you are, okay, so let's

just stay calm, put our heads together,

and I will try to figure something out.

Is that a deal?

Is that a deal?

Okay.

There's no way.

You're wrong, you're absolutely wrong.

Ken's paid all of his back alimony,

more child support than he has to.

We've been talking about getting back together.

Okay, and this metamorphosis-- do you also

attribute it to Ronnie Marcum's Success Shapes baloney?

It worked for Ken.

It's not baloney.

It strives to be baloney.

It's headcheese at best.

Anyway, Ken seemed

to have a bit of a To Sir, with Love thing

going on with Ronnie.

Do you think it's possible Ronnie got him

to go back to his criminal ways?

Ken put his past behind him.

I'm tired of hearing what a great guy he is.

30 today, he helped kidnap the girl,

and if you're holding out on where he could be

or what he could be doing... Wait, at 3:30?

30.

30 on Tuesdays Ken has dialysis.

He has renal complications?

They're kept in check

as long as he makes it to his weekly treatments.

Excuse us a second.

Can I talk to you?

Ray, if Ken has malfunctioning kidneys,

he cannot miss a dialysis appointment.

His body will be toxic by this evening.

If complications arise, he could be dead by the morning.

There's a chance Ken's a victim here, too.

What, Ronnie's forcing

the biggest success story his company has had,

a guy who helped him move tons of product,

to help him kill and kidnap his way through New York?

Is that what you're telling me?

I think so, man.

None of this tracks!

Naomi?

He lives.

Ronnie.

Where is the tape?

How'd you get Naomi's...

Guess it's safe to say you know about Mo and Pike-- shame.

Where is the tape?

So help me God, if you put hands on my niece...

Your niece is alive, but if you want her to stay that way,

you'd better give me what I need.

The tape for my niece, straight up.

Your word good on that?

Curtis, my books grossed

over a quarter million dollars last year.

We both know the value of my word.

Oh, damn it.

ESU got a hit on Naomi's cell and then lost it.

Closest they could pin it is

25 miles north of Manhattan, near White Plains.

Well, Ronnie's not stupid enough to keep his signal hot.

We need Curtis's cell number, Jules.

I know that because you keep telling me.

I got it. It's work on Curtis's number.

Marshals.

This is Zancanelli.

Okay.

All right, yeah, I'll be happy to pass that along.

All right, thanks.

Lloyd.

That was the D.O.C.

Gary Margolis' parole was denied.

Yes!

Based on how he performed at the hearing,

he's never getting out.

That is worthy of a double shaka--

the sign of total awesomeness.

Feel good, kid?

Yeah.

Ray, Ray, Ray, um, on a hunch, I started tracking purchases

made under Curtis's name.

Um, few months ago,

he ordered a satellite TV and had to give a number

so that the installer could tell him

when he was coming by.

The number he gave isn't associated

with a major carrier.

It has to be the burner phone.

All right, great job.

Get a trace running now.

Everybody, get your stuff.

If we find that phone, we save the kid.

: You wait here, I'll be right back.

Where is the tape?

Inside the camcorder.

Where's Naomi?

We grew up together,

me, you, Mo, Pike.

This is how y'all cross me?

I gave you a job, I put food on your table.

What? You made us do bitch-work.

I could've left you all behind. You did.

As soon as you get busted,

you boot the guys with rap sheets,

Want to show everyone that your arrest was

just a speed bump for your upstanding company.

You can't afford bad press, I can't afford to eat.

So make me give you every cent,

every cent I get by the end of the month

or you turn in the tape, huh?

Did you even consider

how I would respond to that threat, C?

We got to get out of here right now.

Come on.

Signal still up, Jules?

GPS puts you within eight miles of Ashton and Inwood.

Depressed area, lots of abandoned houses.

Okay, getting closer.

That's Naomi!

Don't touch me!

No, it's okay. I'm a Marshal.

Did they hurt you?

There was some white guy who let me go.

All right, you stay with her. Yeah, yeah.

We had a deal. Yeah, we did.

You get the tape, I get my niece.

All right, Jules, I'm on the 2600 block of Bayfair.

You any closer? Almost there.

Okay, signal's strong, on your, on your right, 2660.

All right, I'm here, Jules.

There, across the street.

He gets a gun 'cause of that suit?

Why are you even still wearing that, you mannequin?

You want to go in there?

You see something, say something.

Hey, Ray, look.

It's a videotape.

Lloyd was right. Blackmail.

Ronnie's long gone.

Jules, put an alarm out on Marcum.

He's on foot in the vicinity of the house, heading in, uh...

Damn it!

In any direction, Jules.

Ken must have over a hundred pictures of his kids.

He gave his life for someone he didn't know.

Nothing from the girl.

She didn't see Ronnie, hear him, smell him.

We don't even know what he was wearing.

Might as well have been kidnapped by a ghost.

Oh, my.

He was a ghost.

On purpose.

It wasn't just Naomi who didn't seen Ronnie. Nobody saw him.

Think about it!

He escapes wearing an outfit that covers his entire body,

he hides his face from the cameras,

he leaves no fingerprints behind.

The only people that can I.D. Him are either dead

or had a pillowcase over their face.

goes so far as kidnapping Ken

so that nobody would see him driving or plucking up

teenagers from the sidewalk. Why?

'Cause he's gonna break back in. To prison?

To the boarding house where the Facts of Life girls live.

Yes, to prison.

To prison, you guys.

He has a history of hiding out

in fear of abuse, abuse that he instigates.

Because he wants an alibi.

Yeah. So he breaks out, he destroys the tape

that can destroy him, he breaks back in unseen,

claims he was hiding out the whole time.

Guarantee he's back in before final count.

You go missing for over a day,

it's gonna be hard to convince any jury

that they couldn't find you for that long.

But a few hours? Anyone can hide out that long.

Right. So then that sneaky little bastard spends

his last four months in the hole as punishment,

but he is back out before his next book tour.

And because we couldn't prove he left the prison,

he literally gets away with murder.

Wrong.

Multiple murders.

Not necessarily.

I might have something.

Sewer lines are all covered, but no sign of him.

The blueprints says there's a steam tunnel that runs

underneath the laundry.

That tunnel's been sealed over a decade ago.

I want four men on it.

It's a foot of concrete all the way around.

Four men now. Don't make me

formally commandeer your prison.

Your "Breakikikikikikikd

as your blackmail theory or you're gonna make me look stupid.

Okay, I'm officially biting my tongue.

Ronnie ordered himself a painter's suit to break out...

Yeah? So what's to say

he didn't order himself something to break back in?

Holy Schnikes!

Ronnie just mailed himself back into prison!

All right, let's go! Let's go!

Before you say anything, Warden,

I know, I know you're upset for me hiding,

but, you know, Arturo attacked me again.

Deputy Ray Zancanelli.

We know all about the bodies you dropped:

Mo, Pike, Curtis, Ken.

My friends all gone?

Please.

We have evidence pinning you to every single one of them.

I don't know what to tell you, Officer. That's impossible.

I've been hiding in the crawl space above the closet all day.

You can check if you want; my finger prints are everywhere.

When you're 17, you got to be careful

running your mouth at a house party.

Man, Benny's a poodle, Curtis.

Chris Lodi used to punk him on the daily.

When Chris stepped to me, I wasn't having it. That's why

they fished Lodi out the river, 'cause I smoked him.

Three to the chest, point-blank to the dome.

Blew his roof off.

The motivational speaker's finally at a loss for words.

We ran the name Chris Lodi.

Cold case of a 17-year-old kid shot three times in the chest,

once in the head back in '97.

Case ain't cold no more, Ronnie.

This can't, this can't be happening.

What happened?

Ken let Naomi go, you chased after.

When you couldn't find her,

you went back to the house to finish off your friend Ken?

Thing is,

he's got the last laugh because when you went after the girl,

he made a copy of the tape.

These mini cameras are amazing.

Ronnie Marcum, you're under arrest

for the 1997 murder of Chris Lodi.

Make sure you cover up that shame sphere

while you're in those supermax showers, Ronnie.

Oh, there's the con I know

and have no real emotional attachment to.

Back in action?

You know, for what's it worth,

the suit doesn't make the man.

If you'd applied yourself

to anything other than your chosen profession,

you would be ten times more successful

than Ronnie Marcum, okay?

And as much as it sickens me to say...

you're very smart, Shea.

I just got off the phone with HQ; not good news.

Even though we pinched Ronnie on the murder,

we technically didn't get him for a breakout.

No, don't say it.

If you can't prove there was a breakout,

you can't prove there was a runner.

Oh, so we can't get our month off?

Shenanigans. Call Shenanigans.

Ray, that's not fair. We busted our ass on this case.

Man, I shaved. I threw on, I threw that suit on.

The decision wasn't my call...

but this one is.

Get back in your civvies and get out of here.

Be back here at 6:00 A.M.

I'll be back in Maybelle for the morning count.

No, my daughter's with her father's mother.

Yeah, my girl's up in Ohio.

I mean, if I'm gonna have 13 hours off,

I'm spending 12-and-a-half of that hitting it.

Unbelievable. You get a free pass and you still bitch and moan?

Deal's off.

Okay, I mean, okay. Hey, hey...

And God have mercy on your miserable convict souls

if one of you sniffs the thought of making a go for it.

You could hide out in a kangaroo pouch

in Australia, I will find you. You could be in an igloo...

Look, okay, we get it. You're gonna track us down,

hit us with a bat, drag us back to jail.

Damn right. Get out of here. See ya.

I don't know if you noticed, Ray,

but I really didn't say much.

You know, some people would be rewarded

for such willpower. How much?

$300 for bus fare to A.C.

plus a little taste to get me rolling at the craps table.

Your investment plus ten-percent vig

will be repaid in the morrow.

60 bucks. That's not... Okay.

So, um, I am not going to Atlantic City,

but we are going to celebrate

I'll go change.

♪ You were the girl that changed my world ♪

♪ You dropped that bomb on me, baby ♪

Sit down!

You dropped that bomb on my... *

Sit down!

What the fudge happened?

MAN Yeah, you're done, buddy. Jeffrey's up next.

My pipes blew the fuses. Yes!

You're next.

I've not made that much progress.

Okay.

Let's baby-step it.

How about you get us

two more of those, and I'll be right back?

Consider it done.

I listened to you.

I did everything you said,

and it worked.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you so much.

Thank you for caring so much.

Thank you!